


Eliot's Not-Birthday Present

by meils121



Category: Leverage
Genre: Birthday, Birthday Presents, Knives, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-22
Updated: 2017-12-22
Packaged: 2019-02-18 14:17:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 865
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13101936
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/meils121/pseuds/meils121
Summary: Parker doesn't know when Eliot's birthday is.  That's not going to stop her from getting him presents.





	Eliot's Not-Birthday Present

**Author's Note:**

  * For [lovebeyondmeasure](https://archiveofourown.org/users/lovebeyondmeasure/gifts).



            Eliot is not exactly an open book.  Parker’s still trying to figure out most people, and Eliot isn’t most people.  So it’s not completely ridiculous that she has to flat out ask Eliot what he wants for his birthday.

            “It’s not my birthday.”  Eliot answers, which really isn’t helpful.  

            Parker frowns.  She knows that.  She also knows that Hardison hasn’t been able to figure out Eliot’s real birthday.  But that’s not really a good excuse to completely ignore the day altogether.

            “It could be.”  Parker counters.

            “No one knows my birthday.”  Eliot growls.

            “The day isn’t exactly what’s important.”  Hardison says.  “I think Parker just wants an excuse to eat cake.”

            Parker nods.  “And I like you.  And you got me presents for my birthday.  I want to get you presents.”

            Eliot shrugs.  “Whatever.  But I don’t need things.  I don’t like having lots of stuff.”

            That’s a bit of a lie.  Parker should know - she’s been living in the same apartment as Eliot for the last year and a half.  He has the world’s largest collection of flannel shirts and three guitars that are somehow all different.  He blew several hundred dollars on a fancy pots and pans set last month.  The man definitely likes stuff.  

            But Eliot is Eliot.  Parker may not be able to read him all the time, but she knows that sometimes he likes to pretend that if he needed to, he could walk away from this life without it hurting too much.  They don’t talk about those things much though.

            “So?”  Parker asks, when Eliot doesn’t say anything else.

            “I don’t know.  Kitchen shit.”  Eliot says, which is only slightly more helpful.  

            Parker and Hardison end up at one of those fancy cooking stores, the type that Hardison’s normally afraid to go into because he thinks he’ll end up breaking the entire display of glassware.  

            A saleswoman comes over with the sort of fake smile that even Parker can spot from a mile away.  “Can I help you two?”  She chirps.

            “We need kitchen shit.”  Parker says, and Hardison chokes back a laugh.  To her credit, the saleswoman - Carla, according to her nametag - only looks slightly taken aback.

            “What kind of kitchen - uh - stuff?”  Carla asks.

            Parker looks at Hardison, who shrugs.  “Not pots and pans.  He just bought some.”  He reminds Parker.

            “Oh, we’re buying for someone.”  Carla says.  

            “Yeah.  My - our - boyfriend.  I think.”  Parker says.  Hardison cuts her off before she can get too confused in the whole terminology thing.

            “He likes to cook.  Like, the man is obsessed with food.”  Hardison says.  “But he’s really picky.”

            “We have a nice spice set.”  Carla offers.  

            Parker shakes her head.  “I want something big.  And nice.  And maybe something he could also use in case the apartment got broken into?”  She eyes a nearby frying pan and wonders if they work as well at knocking out people as they do in cartoons.

            Carla’s looking a little concerned now.  “Oh.  Okay.”  She pauses, like she’s a little worried that what she’s about to say next is going to make her an accomplice to some crime.  “We just got in a new shipment.  It’s a beautiful set of knives.  Perhaps you’d like to take a look?”

            That sounds better.  Parker grins when she sees the knives, all sharp and shiny and dangerous looking.  They’re perfect.  “Those.”  She says to Hardison.  “Eliot needs them.”

            Hardison looks at the price.  “Three thousand for a set of knives?”  He asks incredulously.  

            “I don’t care.”  Parker says.  These are the perfect present.

            Carla rings them out and wraps up the knife set into a pretty package.  “Enjoy.”  She says, but she doesn’t tell them to come back.  

            “When are we having Eliot’s birthday?”  Parker asks Hardison as they leave the store.  

            “We need cake.”  Hardison answers.  Parker frowns.  She doesn’t particularly like baking, and Hardison’s likely to set the apartment on fire if he tries.  

            “We can stop at the bakery on the way home.”  Parker says.  “Today can be Eliot’s birthday.”

            And so Eliot opens the apartment door an hour later only to be handed a giant balloon that reads “Have a Rocking Birthday!”.  He frowns up at it for a minute before looking at Parker.

            “Today’s not my birthday.”  He says.

            “That’s okay.”  Parker says.  She walks in and puts the cake box on the counter.  “We can pretend.  Plus, we got you a present.”

            Eliot looks suspicious.  “A present?  What kind of present?”

            “The sharp kind.”  

            Eliot finally stops grumbling and sits down and opens the present.  “Knives?”  He asks.  “Holy shit, these are awesome.  Do you know -”

            “No.”  Hardison holds up a hand before Eliot can start explaining the features of each individual knife.  They’d already sat through the lesson for the pots and pans, and neither one of them wants to repeat it.  “Enjoy your damn present and don’t ever talk about them to me.”

            Eliot shrugs.  “Whatever.”  He smiles.  “Thanks, Alec.  Parker.  This is the best not-my-birthday birthday present I’ve ever received.”

            Parker smiles at that.  “Can we have cake now?”  She asks, because really, there’s only so long she can look at a bunch of knives.  

 


End file.
